Magical Encounters
by paddy lover1417
Summary: Just a few short scenes starring some of our favorite characters and their love lives, happy or not. Some ships include: DM/GW HP/GW RL/NT RW/HG LE/JP SB/OC and more. I do not in anyway own Harry Potter or anything related to it.
1. Someone to Watch Over Me GWHP

Chapter 1: Someone to Watch Over Me

Ginny Weasley moved through the compartments in silence, looking for someone. She would not admit to herself completely who it was. After all, one would hope that she would have gotten over her crush after five years at Hogwarts. But apparently no matter how much she grew up, her infatuations never did. She paused at the entrance to the next compartment. Behind these next doors were the dreaded Slytherin compartments. She took a deep breath, knowing that whom she wanted to see was in the very back of the train. He always was. She frowned. Was it worth going through the compartment at all? She would likely get to their compartment and be shooed away to go sit with Neville Longbottom as always. She looked at the door determinedly, pushing her long red hair away from her brown eyes and pushing the compartment door away. Her other hand fingered the wand in her pocket.

"Aren't you a little far from your Gryffindork-dom?" The voice that asked it was Pansy Parkinson. Ginny sighed inwardly. She had almost made it to the other side of the compartment before it happened too. So close. She could keep walking, she supposed. Right out the door as if the pug like girl didn't even exist. That would be the best action. "Did you hear me, Gryffindor" asked the girl, annoyed at being ignored. "What do you want, Parkinson," asked Ginny, turning to face her. Ginny set her face into a nonchalant, almost bored expression. "What do I want," Pansy asked with a twittering giggle. "What do I want? I want to know what the likes of you are doing in our Slytherin area." "You don't own this part of the train," Ginny responded. Pansy's compartment was full of her friends, all watching her with amused admiring eyes. They had their noses practically pressed against the window. Ginny looked over her shoulder again to see how far the door was. It made her heartbreak to know she was so very close to her destination and yet so very, very far. Physically and emotionally. She could also see other Slytherins begin to stick their heads out of compartments. Crabbe stuck his head out two compartments away. Ginny sighed; silently praying Draco Malfoy was not present in the area. That would simply ruin her day completely. "Well," asked Pansy. "Are you going to give me what I want?" "Jesus, Parkinson," sighed Ginny. "I can only do so much magic to fix that nasty face of yours." Ginny was pleased to see that even a few of Pansy's friends had to stifle their giggles. Pansy's eyes flashed dangerously as she circled Ginny like a shark waiting to attack. "Look whose talking. Ratty hair, hand me down robes, a smell of old thrift stores. Why not just plaster the word beggar on your forehead," tutted Pansy. Her friends outwardly laughed at this comment, eyes dancing as if watching a cartoon. "Only if you write Pug Faced and Desperate on yours," replied Ginny calmly. Pansy stopped circling and reached for her wand. "What did you say," she snapped pointing it at Ginny's nose.

"Now, now, Pansy," drawled a voice behind them. "Lets not waste our Slytherin house points before we're even at school." Ginny gave an internal moan of desperation. Why were the fates mocking her like this? All she wanted to do was go to sit with the dream team. Was this the fates' way of making her admit why she was moving to the back of the train. Fine, fates, she thought. I want to see Harry Potter. Happy? "Drakey," Pansy whined, giving him a pouty face. "She said the meanest thing about me." "You can't take her serious," Malfoy replied looking down at Ginny with a strange look in his eyes. It seemed almost one of comfort, if a Malfoy's eyes could ever give comfort. "She is, after all, only a Weasley." "But what about what she did to your father," Pansy asked stomping her foot. Draco's eyes flashed. "You leave my father out of this," he snapped. "I'm sorry, Drakey," Pansy cooed, wrapping her arm around his. "It's only, I missed you. You didn't write all summer and I couldn't find you when we were all boarding. Where were you?" Malfoy's arm seemed to tense, though his face remained expressionless. "I was already sitting with Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise," he told her. "This is all fascinating, I assure you," said Ginny annoyed. "But can you move so I can go on?" This seemed to bring the two lovebirds from their reverie. "Why, Weasley," Malfoy drawled. "Are we not worthy of your company?" Pansy smirked at Ginny as Malfoy now circled slowly. Somehow, Ginny realized, his circling seemed far more interesting. More exciting. More enticing. She shook herself mentally. "Not really, Malfoy," she replied calmly. "Let's turn her into a toad," giggled one of Pansy's friends. "Too late," replied Pansy with a giggle. "She already is one." "Then let's give her hives and boils," snickered another. "Or make her hair stand on end," twittered another. Malfoy looked at the girls with a look of disgust on his face and Ginny felt a momentary rush of respect for the poor boy that had to live so close to these girls. Pansy, as if sensing this rush stepped forward. "Lets let her go on her way." Everyone turned to Pansy in shock. "But Pansy," whined her friend from the compartment, but Pansy held up her hand. "What do you think, Draco," Pansy asked. She looked up at Draco and batted her eyelashes. "Whatever suits you," he said with a shrug. "I'm bored of this game." He walked casually back down to his compartment and into it, closing the door behind him. Pansy pouted for a moment and turned to her friends. "What was wrong with him," she asked in a whine. Ginny, sensing the moment to move quietly, crept down the hall, taking out her wand to jinx Pansy. But just as she was deciding what jinx to use, she felt a tug on her cloak and she was pulled backward, out of the Slytherin compartments, and under a silver cloak, invisible to the eye.

"Ginny, what are you doing," asked Harry's voice. "Well, I was about to jinx Parkinson. But nice to see you too," Ginny replied with a smile. Harry smiled. "I mean what were you doing in those compartments," he asked. "Your as bad as Ron," she tutted. "I was going back to see you." Harry looked at her with raised eyebrows and she quickly added "guys. Where are Hermione and Ron anyways?" "Arguing I think. Or playing cards. One or the other," Harry replied. "Not snogging," Ginny asked with a giggle. "Maybe someday when they are all grown up," Harry replied with a laugh. "Well what are you doing here," asked Ginny, pulling off the invisibility cloak so she could breathe more freely. Harry followed suit and they sat down in the hallway. "I was going to spy on Malfoy and see what he was up to," said Harry, messing up his already messy raven hair with his hand. "Oh," Ginny said trying not to let her smile falter. "Well, don't let me stop you." She began to stand but Harry grabbed her wrist. "I mean, I would rather do this instead," he said hastily. She sat back down and noticed that he held her wrist for a moment longer then necessary. She felt her cheeks heat as he dropped her wrist quickly, looking away embarrassed. "What were you hoping to find out anyway," she asked curiously. "If Malfoy was a deatheater or not," Harry said with a sheepish grin. "And I needed something to get away from Hermione and Ron. Sometimes their banter is just ridiculous." "Sometimes," Ginny asked raising an eyebrow with a smirk. "All right, all the time," Harry conceded. "Why were you headed back to see us? Is something wrong?" Ginny took a moment to appreciate his concerned look before replying "no. I just wanted to see if you'd like to play some wizard chess. We can go into Neville's compartment." He seemed to think for a moment before agreeing and they stood and moved to the compartment nearby where Neville greeted them cheerfully.

"So what, do all Weasley's know how to play chess or something," Harry asked jokingly. Ginny moved her bishop forward thoughtfully. "Basically. I happen to be better than Fred and George because Ron always made me play with him." Harry moved his rook forward. "That sounds terrible," he said looking at her. She could see his gaze out of the corner of her eye as she watched the board curiously. He seemed to be debating about something. She looked up. "Something wrong," she asked. His arm moved up but then there was a snore and they both turned to the corner where Neville sat sound asleep, snoring. They looked at each other and grinned at the sounds Neville was making. "Well, I reckon I'll be beat by you as well," Harry said casually, moving a pawn forward. "Is that legal," she asked jokingly. "Beating your captain, I mean." "I suppose it must be. After all, I'd beat you at quidditch any day." Ginny paused in moving her queen. "Excuse me," she asked with a mock glare on her face. Harry looked at her, smile faltering. "Well," he said unsure then before. "I think I could out fly you," Ginny replied. "I think I could out spell you," Harry countered. "Like a spelling bee," Ginny asked with a smirk. "A spelling bee or a jinx off," Harry replied. "I'm just that flexible." Ginny let out a laugh, but turned it into a quiet chuckle at Neville's sleepy noise of protest. "I feel sort of bad distracting him from his sleep," Ginny whispered with a smile. "Shall we relocate?" Harry stood. "I suppose so. What shall we do," asked Ginny. Harry looked at her with a devious glint in his eye. "Well, I do have this dungbomb," he said hesitantly. Ginny grinned. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking," asked Ginny. "Slytherins," replied Harry. "Parkinson," agreed Ginny. Ginny pulled out her wand and muttered a spell. One that would make the dungbomb stick to a radius of two feet around Pansy Parkinson at all times. Close enough to get the stench on her to last a week, but far enough so she didn't get hurt. Then Harry, pulling out his own wand lit it. Ginny opened the door quietly and after Harry tossed it into the Slytherin compartment, shut it quickly with a bang. Harry threw the cloak over them both as they peered into the compartment.

Someone shouted and pointed at the lit dungbomb. There was a scream from Pansy's compartment as all the girls rushed out. Every Slytherin went out into the hall to see what the commotion was and when they saw the dungbomb following Pansy, they quickly retreated back into their compartments, closing and locking the girl out. She seemed to be throwing a tantrum. With a wave of Harry's wand, all doors unlocked and flew open just as the dung bomb set off. Screams and moans of disgust and horror filled the train and Ginny pulled Harry back against the wall as the door opened and Slytherins came rushing out, coughing and gasping for breathe. Ginny stifled her giggle as an enraged Pansy Parkinson stomped out and looked around. When she saw no one, she turned and retreated back into the smelly compartment, leaving her stench to linger. Harry and Ginny looked at each other before bursting into laughter. They could not stop. First they were just laughing at the prank, but then Ginny noticed how funny Harry looked when he laughed and that made her laugh harder. Then, she saw that Harry was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes and it was as if she couldn't stop. Like someone had put a tickling charm on her. Finally, after a good ten minutes, they regained themselves enough to realize they were still against the wall, only they had slid down to sit because of the laughter. However, Ginny's arm still lay across Harry as it had when she pulled him against the wall. And Harry's hand still held Ginny's shoulder. They looked at each other for a moment, neither one saying a word. Then Harry's hand moved slowly from her shoulder to her cheek, softly brushing the hair away from it, letting his hand rest in its place. She looked at him with a half smile. His green eyes seemed to dance with laughter. "Harry, I" she began softly, leaning forward. She began to close her eyes as he leaned towards her and she felt the cloak slip off of her, though she didn't care. That is until she was just inches away from Harry's lips and felt a tug on her robes and an excite call of "Ginny!"

Ginny looked down to see nothing, though she knew Harry Potter was sitting there silently looking up at her with laughter and annoyance written on his face. The moment killer was none other than Ron Weasley. Hermione stood behind him shaking her head at the redheaded boy. "Where have you been all trip," Ron asked his little sister, not noticing her pink cheeks and angry eyes. "I've been looking for you. Well, not really, but it's good to see you." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Boy do you have timing," she muttered, giving a sideways glance to the empty spot. "Have you seen Harry, we're looking for him," Ron said, not listening to his sister. Ginny shrugged but Harry appeared from nothing behind Hermione. "Here I am Ron, what's up?" "The carts coming and me and Hermione were worried you'd gone off to spy on Slytherins of something," Ron told him. "Those two things have nothing to do with one another," Ginny told him sourly. She felt like a child on Christmas who thought she was getting a pony only to find she is given socks. Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "They are equally important." "Spy on Slytherins," Harry said with an over exaggerated calm. "Do I ever do that?" Ron laughed and patted Harry on the back, moving him back to their compartment. "See ya, Gin," Ron called behind them. Harry looked back, straightening his glasses with an apologetic look. His cheeks were still pink from before. "I'm so sorry, Ginny," said Hermione's voice. "I tried to get him to stay put for awhile after I heard you and Harry laughing, but he wouldn't listen." Hermione seemed truly apologetic. She would get me the pony instead of the socks, Ginny thought with a smile. "It's nothing. Everything was fine," Ginny replied. "We only pranked the Slytherins. I think I'll go sit with Neville for a bit. See you later Hermione." Hermione patted her back solemnly and turned to go to follow Ron and Harry. Ginny sat down next to the snoring Neville, who had at some mysterious point been joined by Luna Lovegood. "Where have you been," Luna asked dreamily. "Just around," Ginny replied. "Have you seen the Snevals," Luna asked, holding up her latest copy of the Quibbler with a cover picture of a vicious looking animal. "They are terribly violent. They pop up at the most inconvenient times you know." "How do they know when to pop up," asked Ginny, looking at the picture of the creature again and noticing, with surprise, that they did not have red hair and a home made Weasley sweater with the letter R on it. "They watch over you, like a guardian Angel. Or Harry Potter." Ginny looked at her with a strange look. "Harry Potter is a Sneval," Ginny asked skeptically. "No," Luna replied turning the page and turning the magazine sideways. "But he does watch over you, doesn't he." Ginny smiled at the blonde girl, who did not notice, then leaned back and felt herself drifting off to sleep.


	2. Baby, It's Cold Outside

Chapter 2: Baby. it's cold outside

Remus looked out the window at the winter wonderland outside. Well, not so much a wonderland as a blizzard. Remus shivered without realizing it. It seemed like just yesterday he was walking Harry to the train station and waving goodbye to all the students off to Hogwarts. "Now remember," he had told Harry carefully. "Don't do anything stupid." Harry had smirked and rolled his eyes. "We'll make sure he doesn't," Hermione said. Then they had been off for another year. There was a knock on the door and Remus was pulled from his reverie. He paused for a moment, almost confused by the sound of knocking. "Who in the world would be out in this blizzard," he asked himself taking out his wand and moving towards the door. He looked through the peephole to see Nymphadora Tonks standing on the doorstep, looking over her shoulders as she shivered from the cold. She wasn't wearing a very thick cloak.

Remus opened the door, looking at her skeptically. "Nymphadora, what are you doing?" Tonks glared at him at the sound of her first name. "If you keep insisting on calling me Nymphadora, I'm going to have to give you a really obnoxious nickname," Tonks told him, trying to move past him, but he did not move. "What's you mother's sister's uncle's brother's second cousin by marriage's favorite color," Remus asked. It was the security question for Tonks to make sure she was really Tonks. It was also the most nonsensical security question they had. "Butterscotch," replied Tonks lazily. "Lord knows only you would even think of that question and answer," Remus laughed, moving aside to let the shivering girl in. "Why aren't you wearing a thicker coat," he asked curiously. "I just got back by floo from Australia," she said with a shiver. "It's much warmer there. Then I apparated here. I didn't realize it wasfreezing." She gave a sneeze and Remus made a tutting sound, giving her a worried look. "Of course it's freezing here. This is England in December," he told her. "Hot Coco?" She looked up at him gratefully. "As always, bartender," she said with a smirk. Remus moved to the oven and waved his wand, making a kettle appear. "Where are Molly and Arthur," asked Tonks curiously looking around. "They are off in Diagon Alley shopping for groceries. Or Molly is, Arthur is still at work I suspect," Remus replied, lighting the fire under the kettle. "Are you alright," he asked without looking at the sound of Tonks knocking over a chair. He couldn't help but smile as she sneezed in response.

"In Australia, I was teaching this class how to transform into different people and I asked what they thought the perfect person to turn into was, and do you know what one of the students said," asked Tonks. Remus finally was able to light the stove. "What," he asked turning around. He found himself not looking at the pink haired Tonks, but at a long wavy haired blonde with an abnormally large chest and a button nose, with a single mole on her upper lip. "What's your opinion," she asked, batting her overlong eyelashes at him. Remus looked at her for a moment before taking two cups from the cupboard. "Not really my type of girl, I'd say." Tonks giggled in a high-pitched tone. "Then they said they preferred this." He turned again to find himself faced with an hourglass shaped girl with long, sleek raven hair and olive skin. The hair falling across her face hid her dark eyes ever so slightly. "Again," Remus said moving towards the kettle. "It seems a bit off." "Well, what would you transform into," Tonks asked. "What ideal?" "If I were you," Remus asked pouring the hot water over the coco powder. "Yes," replied Tonks. "I think you're beautiful enough without transforming," Remus replied. When Remus turned, he saw Tonks, in her normal state, blushing ever so slightly. "You want milk I assume," Remus said with a smile. "As always," Tonks replied with a smile. She looked around the room as they drank. "You should decorate this place for Christmas. After all, everyone will be coming back for the holidays soon." Remus shrugged. "I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "I just haven't been in the mood for Christmas, to be honest. Not since," he paused and looked at Tonk's suddenly somber face. Tonks looked at him gently, reaching out and putting her hand on his for comfort. "Remus, I miss him too," said Tonks. "But he wouldn't want us to stop everything." Remus gave a chuckle. "Knowing his ego, he might appreciate it." Tonks smiled weakly. "Actually," she said snapping her fingers at a realization. "I think I remember him mentioning he had a box of decoration you all used to put up in your dorm, somewhere in his room." She leapt up. "Lets find it." Before Remus could stop her, she had leapt from the room, whistling a Christmas song. Remus smiled to himself, acknowledging that she was possibly even prettier when excited.

"Alright, so, this is what you think Santa looks like," asked Tonks. They had found the box shoved into the back most corner of Sirius' old closet. Inside were ornaments, mistletoe, stockings and wrapping paper. Under all that, which was spread out on the floor around them, was a train that ran around a floating track, when assembled, and every inappropriate Christmas related thing Sirius had ever received. At this moment, Tonks was holding up a half naked picture of a girl wearing a Santa hat and stockings and almost nothing else. Remus blushed and grabbed it from her hands, putting it back at the bottom of the box. "James gave that to Sirius when we were fourteen," Remus said with an embarrassed smile. "Hey look," said Tonks pulling out a wrapped gift." Looks like he forgot to give you something way back then. Maybe a naked picture to call your own," she said. She handed the package to Remus with a smile. It was messily wrapped, as Sirius' presents always had been. Scribbled on a card were the words "For Moony. From Sirius. The final marauders." Remus turned over the package as if it were a made of glass that would break if he moved to quickly or noisily. He unwrapped it to find two frames. The first was empty with another note. The other was a picture taken in their sixth year. Peter had been taking a class in photography and had asked them to let him practice by taking their picture. Later, Sirius had "borrowed" this one after it had been developed. it showed Remus, Sirius, and James, all laughing and smiling with butterbeers in their hands. James Potter's glasses were falling off of his face as he laughed, and Sirius' butterbeer, which was raised up above their heads with the rest of his arms, was sloshing over onto James' and Remus' shoulders. Remus seemed calmly amused, as if trying not to laugh harder then was appropriate, though his eyes leapt and danced. "That's a good picture," Tonks said. Remus looked up. He had forgotten she was there. "Yeah," he said smiling sadly. "I guess I'm the last marauder now." Tonks wrapped her arm around his shoulders in a comforting hug. Remus smiled at her. "Well," he said with a smile, putting the frame down on the floor. "You know we don't have to decorate if you want a little to look at the picture and, you know, think," said Tonks looking at him. Remus smiled at her gently. "I appreciate that, Nymphadora," he said. "But I think I've thought too much. That's something Padfoot wouldn't have wanted me to do. To think." Tonks smiled before looking at him seriously. "Stop calling me Nymphadora," she snapped. Remus smiled. "But it's so fun to annoy you with." He noticed the other frame on the floor and picked it up. It was empty except for a note. Written in Sirius' messy handwriting were the words: "this is a special frame. it takes a picture of a moment you want to remember, but when you don't have a camera. All you do is think about the frame and the picture will appear inside. If you like it enough, you can just mutter the word "Permanente Photographica" and it will stick there. if you want to change the picture after that, you'll have to figure it out on your own." Remus smiled and put the empty frame in his pocket. "I'll put these in my room and you pack up this box to take downstairs," Remus said with a smile. Tonks nodded and began to put everything into the box again.

When Remus returned downstairs it was to find Tonks looking at the room carefully, as an artist would a canvas before beginning their masterpiece. "I think we should put the inappropriate Santa on the screaming portrait," Tonks said with a smile, after Remus stood next to her for a few moments in silence. He laughed. "I don't think Kreecher would like that much." "That's true," conceded Tonks. "Nor would Molly." They exchanged a mischievous look and emptied the box again. "How about I'll assemble to train and you go and hang things on the walls and ceiling," Remus suggested. Tonks made a sound of glee and she swept the mistletoe, ornaments, and other decorations up into her arms and rushed off. Remus remembered this train. It used to sit around all of their beds and act as their alarm clock in December. It was the most annoying thing to wake up to, almost as annoying as Sirius' singing in the shower. In December, he sang out of tune Christmas carols, adding in his own words and verses. Remus' personal favorite had been "Jingle Bells, Snivellus Smells, Bella laid an egg. Dumbledore cast a spell, and Malfoy ran away." If he were in an especially foul mood, the lyrics would turn more vulgar and irritating. Remus smiled as he began to assemble the track, thinking that this time it would go around the kitchen table.

"Remus," called Tonks voice a half hour later. "I could use a little help." Remus was just finishing the spell to set the train tracks afloat when he heard her voice. it sounded a bit tense. "One second," Remus said. He levitated the train onto the tracks and as soon as it made contact, it began merrily chugging along, as if it had always been right there, hovering over the Black's kitchen table. He moved through the rooms until he came to the living room where Tonks stood on an unstable pile of objects. She was holding onto whatever she had magically stuck to the wall as the pile beneath her swayed. "Well, isn't this a sight," Remus said with a chuckle. "It worked for a bit," Tonks told him with a sheepish smile. "In what world does a clumsy person decide to stand on precariously placed things," asked Remus walking around the pile with interest. "Alright, alright," Tonks said in half-hearted annoyance. "Just help me down and then you can gloat." Remus muttered a spell and the swaying froze. Tonks let go of the object she was holding and delicately moved down. But just a foot from the floor her foot caught and she fell forward. Remus moved to catch her and felt her weight push against him, making him take a step back. Tonks looked up at him. "Thanks," she said with a shy smile. "I'm telling you Tonks," he said returning the smile. "No dangerous stunts for you. I'd hate to have to lose you too." "I'm not that easy to get rid of," Tonks assured him with a smile, looking at his face for a moment. Then she stood and dusted herself off. "Besides," she said with a smirk. "I hung it didn't I? And all the way up there." Remus looked up and realized what she had been hanging.

Sirius Black had been determined in his third year to kiss a girl in Gryffindor. Remus couldn't remember her name, but it was just a year before his reputation of being a bad boy made him rugged and irresistible to girls. James had bet him that the girl would never kiss him and Sirius, never able to turn down a bet, accepted. In order to get the kiss, Sirius had found mistletoe and charmed it. Once hung, the mistletoe began to grow, with the idea that people would simply approach it in wonder at its size. Should two people be under the mistletoe at the same time they would find themselves stuck until they kissed. However, Sirius had made sure that their feet would only be stuck if one or both persons wanted to kiss. If only one wanted to kiss the other a little and the other hated the idea, it wouldn't stick. James was a bit disappointed by this since it meant he could not casually try to kiss Lily, who decided to avoid the plant all together. Now, as Remus looked up, he recognized the same mistletoe plant and looked at Tonks. Tonks, not knowing the history and secret of the mistletoe, was pulling her legs unsuccessfully. She let out a gasp of exhaustion. "I think I'm stuck," she said turning towards him. He tried to move his feet half heartedly, knowing they wouldn't move. They didn't. "Leave it to Sirius to have mistletoe like this," said Tonks with a smile. "What do we do to get out?" "In such a rush after I saved you," Remus joked. Tonks gave him a half smile. "My coco is getting cold you know," she teased. "How about you calm down, it's not too bad that we're so close is it," said Remus taking her hand. "I swear I don't bite this time of month." Tonks laughed. "That's not what I've heard about you, Mr. Lupin," she said. He raised an eyebrow. "Lies. All lies," he assured her. "So we have to kiss," asked Tonks. "If I remember correctly, yes," said Remus, mussing her pink hair with his hand. She looked at him and after a moment she leaned in and their lip met. It was only for a moment, but in the moment Remus felt a surge of something run through him from his lips to his feet. He couldn't help but smile as he moved his arm to the bottom of Tonks' back, pulling her a little closer. He wondered if Sirius had given him the magic frame for a moment like this. Then he felt his feet detach from the ground. He was surprised to find out how disappointed he was that they were free and that Tonks pulled away. She blushed with a smile, looking behind her as the pile of precarious objects collapsed. "We caused an earthquake," She said jokingly. "Coco," asked Remus, leading her to the kitchen with one arm.

They sat in silence for a few moments, both looking at their coco, then at one another, and then quickly away when they caught each others eyes. "So what is the deal with that mistletoe," asked Tonks. "Does it just make everyone under it stick?" Remus smiled and explained the story. "Sorry for getting n you stuck under it," Tonks said sheepishly, not meeting his eyes. "It wouldn't have happened if I had just got a stepladder." Remus looked at her for a moment before saying "We wouldn't have stuck if one of us didn't want to kiss the other. So it's really my fault." Tonks looked at him quickly. "You wanted to kiss me," she asked, blinking with a surprised look. "Don't look so shocked, Nymphadora," Remus said with a smile. "I'm just sorry you had to pay for my wanting to kiss you." He took a sip of coco and smiled at her. "Don't call me that," she snapped instinctively before reaching over the table with a napkin and wiping some chocolate from his upper lip. "The train looks good," she said pointing up to the happily chugging engine. "Yeah, I think so too," said Remus. they heard the door open and close and Molly's voice calling "I'm Back. Oh, you've decorated the house." There was a moment's pause before a scream of disgust, which was met with the scream of Mrs. Black's portrait. "Oh, I hung up the naked Santa on the portrait," said Tonks looking at Remus like a child caught with her hand in a cookie jar. Remus rolled his eyes. "I'm going to get in trouble now, Nymph-" but he stopped at her look of displeasure at her name. "Oh Remus," she said quickly, as Molly Weasley's footsteps rushed from room to room looking for Remus. "I wanted to kiss you too." Remus looked at Tonks quickly as Molly burst into the kitchen. "What is that THING in the entrance hall," she asked pointing behind her outraged.

Up the stairs in the room Remus was staying, far away from the yelling of Molly Weasley and the guilty confession of Nymphadora Tonks, the frames from Sirius sat on a bedside table. The three boys still stood arm and arm laughing and spilling their butterbeer, the three true marauders. The empty frames sat behind it, looking into space, but it was no longer empty. behind the note of instruction that were stuck in the frame was a picture of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin kissing under the mistletoe, his arm wrapped around her back and her cheek blushing with a hidden smile.


	3. The Nearness of You DMGW

Chapter3: The Nearness of You

Draco Malfoy moved through the corridors and classrooms, not making a sound. Around him, people bustled to and fro. A few people nodded his way or waved. Pansy winked, tossing her raven hair away from her pug face. He was too busy to respond. After all, Lucious was in Azkaban and who knew where that Potter and his mudblood and redheaded lover were. He paused as the corridor traffic thinned. Maybe it was because the holidays were almost upon them, maybe it was because he just hated everyone who was passing him, but he felt suffocated. In every Hufflepuff and Gryffindor eye he could see the twinkle of victory. It teased him and nudged him away. It was like their eyes were hexing him. He felt his arm begin to itch. To be judged by all these blood traitors and mudbloods was insulting. He gritted his teeth and pushed passed a group of second years, knocking a few to the ground. "Watch it Malfoy," snapped one. "He's mad he hasn't seen his father is all," whispered another. Malfoy turned to them with such a cold look that the shine of cleverness rushed away from the speaker's eyes. With a squeak, the second years rushed off. "Don't fancy the truth, Malfoy?"

Draco turned again to see Harry Potter and his two sidekicks smirking at him. Weasley seemed especially pleased with the situation. Draco felt his eyes narrow in disgust. "At least I have a father to see," he hissed. That one struck something, he thought. He could see Potter tighten his fists. "I can't wait to send you to Azkaban," hissed Potter, taking a step forward. "You and all the other deatheaters." Draco smirked. "Is that a threat, Potter? I assure you, I'm shivering in my trousers." "I'd watch it, Malfoy," snapped Weasley, looking at his beloved Potter. "You don't have your usual goons with you. It would be three against one." "I could take all of you, filthy mudblood and two blood traitors. As if it would even be a competition." He spat on the floor by their feet. "The boy who lived," he laughed. Draco could see all the Gryffindor faces looking at him tightening. He was going too far, he knew it, but he couldn't stop. "At least your parents are dead, Potter, they can't be here to be so utterly disappointed when they realize you are not worthy of dusting off my shoes. And hanging around a redheaded trash bag like Weasley? If your mother wasn't dead already, she'd have died at the idea." "Stop it, Malfoy," Granger warned but Malfoy felt as if he were taking some drug. The insults seemed to rush through his blood making him feel stress free and invincible. It was like he had nothing in the world to fear so long as he continued to insult everyone's favorite hero. "Don't tell me what to do, Granger," he snapped, turning his attention to the girl who was now holding Weasley and Potter's wand arms back. "I'm surprised you even came back. Don't you know that soon the Dark Lord will show you were your place is? Down with the house elves. Though, I doubt they'd accept a bucktoothed, fluffy headed thing like you at all." He had barely gotten the words out when he felt a fist hit him so hard in the face, he stumbled backward.

"You'll pay for that Weasley," he said, reaching for his wand. But Potter had his out and muttered a spell. Draco's wand went flying as his hand stung with pain. Then he felt another punch, and another and another until Granger's voice said "Ron! Stop it. It's over, he's not worth it." The red head moved away. "Your right Hermione," he grunted, giving Draco a dark look. "Lets get lunch," suggested Potter with a smile at his redheaded friend. They left down the hall, Draco still sitting on the floor. He sat there for a few moments, feeling blood drip from his nose. He listened to the drip as if it were a torture punishment for the fight he had just lost. Yet he felt he somehow had enjoyed the feeling, the rush of adrenaline that had occurred during the fight, if you could call it a fight. He heard a few doors begin to move, ready to open. He couldn't be found sitting here on the floor, staring into space, and bleeding. He stood and quickly grabbed his wand, rushing into the first open door he found and closing it behind him. The room was large and open, with windows that let a nice breeze drift in. It had desks but they were moved away towards a back wall. The only one that had been moved back into place was sitting in the middle of the room with a boiling cauldron on it. Draco took step forward, curious. "Don't touch it."

Draco wondered as he looked over his shoulder, if today was simply one of those days when he would not see anyone coming but would have to continuously get whiplash from their sneaking up on him. And they were rarely people he wanted to see. This time it was the Weaselette. She stood, a few ingredients in her arms as she used her foot to close the door behind her. "What are you doing in here," asked Draco in a drawl. "Making a love potion to finally win over Potter?" The redhead rolled her eyes. "You're the only person I've met so far who can try to be insulting while bleeding from the face." She moved passed him and over to the cauldron. "I'm working on a potion that we are doing for homework. It's a healing potion." "Professor Snape has never given us a healing potion," Draco responded, not believing her story. The love potion seemed far more likely. "Well it's not for Professor Snape," Weaslette replied, pulling her long red hair into a ponytail as she chopped some sort of root. "It's for my medi-wizard class." "Oh," Draco replied. There was really nothing else to say. "People trust you to heal them?" She paused in her chopping to look at him. "I could heal you pretty easily. But you'd have to trust a Weasley." He made a sound that could have been a scoff. "I wouldn't let you near my face if you paid me," he replied. "Well, I guess you could always go up to Madam Pomfrey and risk your Slytherin friends seeing you all bloodied and black eyed," replied the girl. Draco began to wonder if anything bothered her these days. She was so much more fun to torment when she was a first year who was madly in love with Potter. "Fine," he conceded. "Fix me." "After I finish," she replied. He tapped his foot impatiently and she looked up from the book of instructions. "What, Malfoy? You expect me to drop everything just to fix your face," she asked. Her eyes seemed to laugh. "Yes," he snapped back. She laughed, turning back to the potion.

Draco stuck out his tongue at her profile, glaring at her as he pulled a seat over from the wall. Who did she think she was? Just because she was smart enough to know how to heal him, she thought he was at her mercy? A Malfoy was never at anyone's mercy. He shook his head angrily. Look at her, he thought watching as she dropped the roots in and stirred carefully. With her stupid potion, stupid hand me down clothes, stupid hair that had at least three different shades of red, her stupid profile with it's stupid perfect nose, it's stupid long lashes, and it's stupid stray hair falling out of it's ponytail, and- he stopped. He shook his head at himself. What was he thinking about? "What?" Draco blinked and looked at the girl again, as if just seeing her. "What do you mean what," he asked. It came out coarser than usual. "Why are you staring at me like that," she asked looking at him oddly. "I'm only waiting," snapped Draco. "I'll look elsewhere if it bothers you that much. Silly self-conscious girls." He tried to turn his seat away but she laughed and caught his eye. Her brown eyes looked at his grey ones and he found himself frozen. Had they always sparkled and danced like that when they looked at him? They seemed to dance slower, as if she were seeing something beyond what was in his steely grey eyes. Something better, hopeful, deeper. She bit her lip as if thinking about something. In the light from the rays bouncing through the window, she looked as if she had a halo of light surrounding her. He had never realized how pretty she was. Well, he had on the train, hadn't he. Draco shook his head, looking away. "What do you want," he snapped. She blinked, looking at her potion. "It's nearly done," she said. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. Her cheeks had a tinge of pink to them.

"There," she said ten minutes later. "Now," he asked annoyed. She turned to him with a smile. "Come on, Weasly," he snapped. "Well, since I'm about to do something nice to you, maybe you should call me by my name," Weasley replied. He scoffed. "What, Ginny," he asked. "That's a terrible name. It sounds like your five." He saw a fire leap into her eyes. "As if Drakey is any better," she snapped. "Drakey is not my name," he said annoyed. Then he smirked. He bet it would make her feel uncomfortable if he called her by name. He could make any name sound ten times better then it was. He leaned forward from the chair, smirking at her. "It's Draco, Virginia." She seemed struck by the use of her real name. She did not move and yet he felt no satisfaction. Rather he felt a fluttering feeling as the name left his lips. "Well, come closer, Draco," Virginia replied in the same soft voice, looking at him with a half smile. "And I'll fix your face." She reached up her hand and took his face in it, turning his head to inspect the damage. Draco felt a rush to his cheeks at her touch. He felt as if he had been momentarily shocked by static electricity. "This is easy enough. Just a fairly bad black eye and a broken nose." "Broken," he asked with a blink. Her voice seemed to be wrapping around him as if bewitching him, fading out all other noises from the hallway outside. She muttered a spell and he felt his nose crack back into place. He made a yelp of pain. "Bloody hell, Virginia. What the hell," he yelped. "I need warning." He looked at her to see she was laughing hysterically. "For a Weasley, you've got a mean streak," he said in the closest tone to that of a compliment that he had ever used. She smiled, though he noticed a blush to her cheeks again. "This one won't hurt," she told him in a hushed tone, leaning close once again. Her wand tapped his cheekbone, right under the black eye and he felt warmth rush through and around his eye. "See, all better," she said holding up a mirror she had pulled from her pocket. "Thank goodness." "Back to your old ferret self," she laughed moving over to the potion. Draco glared at her, moving over to the potion. He looked into the cauldron. "Not bad," he paused looking at her from the corner of his eye. "Virginia." The redhead seemed taken aback by his continued use of her name. "It sounds so odd coming from you, Draco," she said and Draco felt his own cheeks heat, though he doubted anyone noticed. His name sounded so much better from her lips than any from Pansy's. He had thought he was beginning to hate his name from the way Pansy always said it. Like some overly sweet candy he had to get rid of or risk tooth decay. Ginny said it as if it were a holiday pudding, waiting to be eaten but too pretty to simply gobble up.

"Well, thanks," he said motioning to his face. "But don't think I owe you one or anything." Virginia raised her eyebrow and tilted her head. "But you do. You owe me a favor," she replied bottling the potion and waving her wand to clean the cauldron. With another motion she moved the table back against the wall and the chairs back to their stacks. "A Malfoy never falls indebt," Draco told her. "What do you want." "I haven't decided yet. I'll let you know," she said, tucking the vial into her cloak. Draco smirked and strode over to her. "You have no idea at all," he asked looking down at her. He was about half a head taller than she was. She looked up at him through long lashes. "No, not yet, but I'll tell you eventually, Draco." Her voice had fallen to a whisper and in the moment his name left her lips he grabbed her arms, leaning down to kiss her. When he did, he knew that somehow he had always wanted to do it, every time he had teased her or laughed at her. Even when she had hexed him. All he had wanted was for this moment. When he could move his hand from her arm and up to her head, tangling his fingers in it's red flames and kissing her. She had not pulled back. Instead she stood taller, on the balls of her feet, pushing against him. Her arms moved around his neck, pulling him closer to his face, as if she couldn't have stopped if he had demanded it. He wouldn't have. When he did pull back, she looked at him dazed, her hair in a low ponytail, falling out in a mess. "What was that for," she asked confused. "To repay the favor," he replied. He turned nonchalantly and moved towards the door. "Thanks for fixing my face," he said with a smile. "But you know how it goes. After I leave this room and all." She nodded, taking down her ponytail and fixing it again. For a moment he watched her, as if under a spell. "You know, my brother would kill you for doing that," she told him, moving towards the door where he stood to leave. "Yeah," Draco asked with a smirk. "I guess that would give me an excuse to get healed again." He gave her a wink and she laughed. Then she reached for his robe, rolling up the sleeve to show his Dark Mark. She looked at it for a moment, then up at him. He felt shame for the first time, a need to move away from this girl who was so good and pure.

"He'd kill you for that too," she smiled, though her eyes did not smile with her expression. He reached his free arm up and moved a strand of stray hair from her face. "I would as well," he muttered. "If I thought it would doom anyone but myself." She blinked, searching his face. "Well Virginia," he said with a sad smile. "Here's to being Capulets and Montagues." She stood on the balls of her feet once more and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Bye, Draco," she smiled. Then she was gone through the door he opened and down the hallway. He counted to five before opening the door and stepping out. Turning, he looked up to see the redhead looking down at him from the top of the stairs. "Beat it Weasley," he called half-heartedly. She smirked before turning her head to the sound of her voice. It was Potter. "Is the ferret giving you trouble," he voice asked Virginia. Virginia looked up at him on some stair out of Draco's view. "Nothing I can't handle." The raven-haired boy wonder moved down the stairs to stand next to her, looking over at Draco angrily. Draco gave a wave and a smirk. "Wear protection, Potter. Lord knows we don't need any more idiots running around." Then he turned and walked slowly and purposefully down the hall, rolling down his sleeve and feeling the first stab of pain he had ever felt in the region people said the heart was to exist. Apparently, there were things in life money couldn't buy. And no Malfoy could ever have the thing he was thinking of. When he made it to the end of the hallway, he looked back again to see Potter talking to Virginia, his back to Draco. Virginia nodded and smiled, then as if feeling his eyes on her, looked up. The brown met the grey and Draco turned and walked down to the dungeon were Pansy sat, ready to butcher his name back into its proper place. To tear it down from the place Virginia's mouth had put it by her kiss.


	4. Let's Call the Whole Thing Off

Chapter4: Let's call the Whole Thing Off

"And then she just stormed out. Just stood up and stormed out as if it was my fault. Can you believe it? My fault. She started it!" Ron Weasley could tell Harry wasn't listening. At first he had thought the raven-haired friend was listening as he pushed the oatmeal around in the bowl in front of him, but somewhere between the third and fourth piece of toast Ron himself was chewing, he had realized he was talking to a brick wall. "Harry," he whined. "Hmm," asked his friend, looking up through his large glasses. "What should I do," Ron asked. "Apologize," suggested Harry. "But it wasn't my fault," Ron told him angrily. "Well I dunno then, Ron," Harry told him as they stood to move out to play quidditch. They had to practice for the next game. "I mean, you two fight more then I've ever seen a married couple fight." "What's that suppose to mean," Ron snapped. Harry pushed up his glasses and looked at his friend guiltily. "Nothing, Ron. Shall I be the chaser and you the keeper?" "We should just ask Ginny to join," Ron said, not noticing Harry's interested expression. Ron didn't notice the expression because at the moment of suggestion, he saw the girl in question, his sister, moving across the hall with the other girl in earlier question. "Ginny, want to play quidditch," called Ron across the hall. Both girls turned to him, his sister had a look of exasperation on her face, the other girl, Hermione Granger, a look of annoyance. "Not now, Ron," Ginny replied. "Oh come on, Ginny," Ron said. "Come play with us. It's better than the library." Hermione glared daggers at him and rushed ahead. "Your such a prat," Ginny told him annoyed and rushed after her. Ron looked at Harry, who was shaking his head. "What," asked Ron. "It is more fun."

Hermione pushed a strand of blonde hair from her eyes and looked up at Ginny. "You can go play quidditch if you like," Hermione told her with a weak smile. "I am just going to the library after this." "But I like the library," Ginny assured her. "Besides, I need to work on my potions essay. Three rolls of parchment on the powers of wolfsbane potion." Hermione smiled at the kind red head. She was so different from her brother. All the Weasley were. Percy was too repressed, Fred and George too wild, and Ron, well. It was Ron. Hermione smiled to herself. Could anyone be denser then that boy, she wondered. "What exactly happened, anyway," asked Ginny curiously. Her gaze seem distracted for a moment and Hermione looked over her shoulder. As she looked over at the place Ginny was gazing, the Slytherin table, she saw Draco Malfoy moving his head away quickly, looking back at Pansy Parkinson. Hermione turned back to Ginny to see her looking at her toast as if in thought. If she hadn't known better, Hermione would have thought the girl had been looking at Malfoy. She shook her head, making her voluptuous hair move into her face. "Well, I was only trying to help him with his charms," Hermione said taking an apple and biting into it. "And he was getting frustrated and so I said that it was no one's fault but his that he was having trouble since he hadn't paid attention all day in class." "He didn't like that, did he," Ginny asked with a smile. Hermione shrugged. "Well, it was true, but then he said who needed to pay attention with a friend like me. I was like a textbook. So then I asked if that was the only reason he and I were friends and he said probably. Can you imagine," Hermione asked outraged. "And then you stormed off," Ginny asked curiously. "No," Hermione said with a sigh. "Then I said that if that was what our friendship was based on, I would keep my opinion to myself and he could figure it out on his own," she continued pushing a stray hair from her face. "Then said-what?" Ginny was laughing at Hermione's story. "It's funny how when your mad at Ron these days you call him is all," Ginny said with a grin. "My mum used to do that when she was really mad at my dad." Hermione gave her a dark look. "But what did Mr. Weasley say," Ginny asked, straightening her face to a look of seriousness. "He said I couldn't stop myself from helping because it was in my know-it-all nature." "And then you stormed off," asked Ginny. She looked up passed Hermione. "Why do you keep looking over there," Hermione asked curiously. Ginny shrugged. "Zoning out is all," she said simply. "Yes, then I stormed out," Hermione said. "Well, first I called him an insensitive git, and then I stormed out." "How long before you two talk again," asked Ginny interestedly. "Who knows," Hermione replied. "When he appreciates me." "I'm sure he appreciates you," Ginny said with a laugh.

"Appreciate her? What does that even mean," Ron asked throwing the quaffle back to Harry. Harry caught it and sat up straight on his broom. "I dunno. You just need to be nicer to her. I mean, you like her don't you?" Ron was caught off guard by the question and the next throw went right past his right arm and into the hoop. "What do you mean, like her," he asked. "Come on Ron," Harry said in exasperation. Ron went to retrieve the ball. He tossed it to Harry again. "Of course I like her. She's my friend, isn't she?" Harry ran his hand through his raven hair as if trying to think of something. "No I mean, like you liked Padma in fourth year." Ron's cheeks turned a bit red. "I didn't like Padma. She was bloody annoying, always wanting to dance," Ron muttered darkly, catching the ball and throwing it back at Harry. "Fine. Then like you liked Fleur?" "I didn't like Fleur," Ron told him with a stern look. "Really," Harry asked. "Didn't you ask her to the ball?" Again, Ron's cheeks turned red. "We swore we'd never talk about that again. That or Victor Krum." Harry's green eyes seemed to dance. "Fine," Harry conceded. "Then how come you were so jealous over Krum and Hermione going together?" "Look, he just wasn't right for her," Ron snapped back. "Why," asked Harry. "He was too dense. Couldn't even say her name right. Besides, she deserves someone better. Someone more like her. Who understands her. Who can read." "Someone with red hair and in Gryffindor," asked Harry innocently. "Maybe," Ron said softly. "But why does it even matter if I did like her, you know," Ron paused thinking of the word as he tossed the Quaffle in his hand and caught it again. "not like she'd ever like me as anything more then a friend. For Merlins' sake we're usually not even friends." Harry caught the quaffle as Ron tossed it. "Ron, you can sure be dense," Harry said, tossing it with a trick twist so it appeared to go towards the middle before changing directions and going through the side hoop. "what do you mean," Ron asked, retrieving the ball. "Let's go do something else." Harry floated to the ground to meet him and smiled. "I think Hermione might be more fond of you then you think is all," Harry replied patting Ron's back. "You think so," Ron asked curiously. Harry nodded, but Ron sighed in response. "Not like she'll ever talk to me again," he said putting his broom on his shoulder as they walked.

"Harry, pass me the mashed potatoes please," Hermione asked kindly. Normally she wouldn't have sat next to Harry and Ron on their second day of a fight, but Ginny had to skip dinner because of some homework. She was in the Gryffindor tower, trying to rush through all she needed to by tomorrow. Hermione had never really gotten along with many of the girls in her year and Luna was searching for her shoes once again. Hermione had offered to help, but Luna had replied dreamily, "if it is nargles, it's best I go alone. They don't much enjoy company," before wandering off down the corridor barefoot. So the hungry Hermione had wandered defeated to the great hall, late to dinner, to find that the only seat saved was next to Harry, opposite Ron. "Here you go, Hermione," Ron said holding out the mashed potatoes. Hermione looked at Harry confused. He had been closer to the potatoes, yet Ron was passing them. Hermione took them silently. "Cam you pass a roll, Harry," she asked, not looking up. "White or wheat," answered Ron's voice. She looked up at the boy. He was acting strangely. Was this his way of making peace? She doubted it. She took the roll offered in his right hand, the white roll. "Personally, I've always fancied wheat. It's the less appreciated, but I appreciate it," Ron's voice told her. Hermione looked at him confused. "Who in the world doesn't appreciate one roll over another," she asked before she could stop herself. He seemed to look relieved at her answer. "Well, you chose the white didn't you. So maybe you appreciate that one over the wheat," Ron continued. Harry had his eyebrow raised and a smile of laughter in his eyes when Hermione turned to him. Obviously she wasn't alone in finding Ron's behavior strange. "You know," Ron asked hopefully. "What are you on about," asked Hermione confused. Then she added a "." Ron's face fell. "Your still mad," he asked, his voice taking a tone of disbelief. "Yes," Hermione replied. "You think a roll would make it better?" "I thought the mashed potatoes would," Ron replied. Harry gave a snort of trying to contain his laughter. Hermione looked at them both darkly. "You think this is funny? Insulting me is funny," she asked angrily. "Come on Hermione, I was trying to be funny," Ron said. "Well it wasn't. Goodbye," Hermione stood and moved her plate down the table by Lavender Brown. "Can I sit with you," she asked smiling at Lavender. Lavender looked at her for a moment before scooting closer to Parvarti to make room for Hermione.

"See," hissed Ron as they played chess later in the common room. "She doesn't even care for me as a friend. Can't even laugh at a roll joke." Harry looked at the game in front of him, then over Ron's shoulder. Ron looked to see what Harry was looking at. Nothing was there except a very stressed out Ginny Weasley. "You alright, Gin," Ron asked. Ginny looked up with a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." Her eyes seemed to go passed her brother and over to Harry, but Ron shrugged the idea off. "You know I think Ginny still fancies you a bit," he told Harry looking back at the board. "I doubt that," Harry said in a voice too nonchalant. But Ron did not notice because of the fight between his queen and Harry's bishop. "Now she is just sitting there, talking with Lavender and Parvarti. Did you even know they were friends," Ron asked annoyed. "I didn't even know they were friends!" "I guess they are," Harry said moving his rook forward. "I have half a mind to march over there and-and," he paused and blushed. "And kiss her?" Ron looked at Harry, pulling his eyes away from Hermione who sat by the fire with Lavender and Parvarti. "What? No," Ron snapped, though his ears grew red as well. "Half a mind to ask her what her problem is. The git." "I see," Harry said with a smirk. "Stop smiling like that," Ron said annoyed. "Like what," Harry asked confused. "Like your all wise and know what's going on. You look like Hermione. She couldn't even use my first name," he said pouting. "Sorry, I'll keep my smile to myself," Harry assured him. "Why not just apologize to her?" "I can't," Ron whined. "Stubborn," Harry said shaking his head. "Well, she is too," replied Ron moving his queen. "She'll just think I'm weak. Checkmate."

Hermione frowned looking at the book in front of her. Turning it she looked at the written assignment on her paper. She had to find and master a charm that would make her blend momentarily into the surroundings. She was having trouble finding a satisfactory one, however. All of the charms she found seemed too easy or unnecessarily flamboyant. She heard a cough sound and moved her book down a bit to look over it. Ron sat looking at her. "Look, I know your not talking to me and all," Ron said casually, scratching the back of his head and looking away. "And I think it's stupid and all but I just wanted to say that you've got it all wrong." Hermione raised her eyebrow. She moved the book back up to cover his face as she scanned the next page for a charm worthy of her charms class. "Oh come on Hermione," Ron's voice said a bit too loudly. There was a "shh" from the librarian and the table made a noise as Ron moved closer to whisper. "You know I appreciate you. Come on, how many jams have you gotten me out of," he asked. She made no movement, but her eyes paused in the middle of the page as she listened. "I mean, in first year, you got me out of that shrub that would have killed me and Harry. And if it wasn't for your notes we never would have realized what the monster was in the chamber of secrets. And think of all the times you've helped Harry and me with homework and class. I mean last month I nearly blew my ear off in potions when you weren't there to help me." Ron's voice had slowly risen in volume, as if he was trying to break through the wall that was the book with the volume of his voice. "shhh, Mr. Weasley," hissed the librarian. "And I don't know why you don't think I appreciate you anyway," Ron whispered again. "I mean, you know when I call you a know-it-all it's a compliment. Usually it's not, but your know-it-all has helped us out a lot." Hermione dropped the book a bit to glare at him over it. He shrank back a bit. "Okay, okay. I know you hate being called a know-it-all. But doesn't it count at all that I'm coming and trying to apologize," he asked hopefully. "Well, I suppose that's true," Hermione conceded with a smile. "Great, so you forgive me," Ron asked cheerfully. "I guess. Thanks Ron. I appreciate that you don't think I'm a wheat roll, or whatever your analogy was earlier," Hermione said. Ron's ears turned red but he waved it away as if it were a fly. "Great, so will you help me with charms, like old time?" Hermione's features darkened. "Did you only apologize to get me to help you with charms," Hermione asked annoyed. Ron blinked confused. "Erm, no Hermione, I mean," but she had already slammed the book closed and moved away.

When Ron woke up it was to the soft shuffling of movement. He sat up quickly and his head ran into something solid. "Blimey," he said with a moan. "You have the hardest head," replied a voice. He sat up again and looked at the speaker, who was sitting on the end of the couch, rubbing her forehead. "Hermione!" he exclaimed. "Are you alright?" "Yes I think so, what are you doing down here so late," she asked. Ron looked around. On the floor sat his parchment and charms book, his wand was still in his hand despite his falling asleep. "I was trying to look up and master a charm when I fell asleep, what are you doing down here," he asked. "Well I was coming in and saw you, so I gave you a blanket," Hermione said motioning to the blanket that now covered Ron. "Oh, thanks," he said looking at it. "It's soft." "Yeah, my mum made it for me," Hermione replied looking at the charms book. "How's the charms going?" "Terrible," Ron replied with a shrug. "My textbook doesn't know as much as you." Hermione smiled and Ron thought he saw a blush on her cheeks. "Look Hermione," he began. "Sorry I insulted you. You know I don't think before I talk." "That's an understatement," Hermione laughed. "Hey," Ron said defensively. "Look, I'll help you, alright," Hermione suggested, hitting his legs so he'd move them off the couch. "Well alright," Ron said with a yawn.

Hermione woke up the next morning and blinked. She could see a blue blanket by her head and pale skin. She blinked and moved her head enough to see that she was still in the common room, the charms book was still in her arm that dangled off the couch. Her arm was however resting on the stomach of Ron Weasley, who made a noise of sleep before pulling the blanket a little higher. She looked at him for a moment, his red hair spread out on the pillow. They had worked on the charm late into the morning and must have fallen asleep without realizing it. She smiled fondly at the boy next to her. "I put the blanket on, you looked cold," he muttered half awake. Hermione made a movement of surprise that would have been a jump if she had not been trapped in the couch by Ron's body. "I swear we just slept," he added, smacking his lips before snoring again. "I see," Hermione replied with a smile. "Well, did you learn your charm," she asked curiously. Ron's sleepy hand moved from the floor where it was dangling and patted his stomach as if looking for something. It found her hand and paused, as if deciding if this was what it had been seeking. After a moment his fingers intertwined with hers. "Probably not," he said before falling back to sleep. Hermione smirked and pulled the blanket up to her neck, not breaking their hands apart. Then, she fell asleep again, not caring for the first time in months if she missed a class or two.


	5. Summertime LEJP

Chapter 5: Summertime

Lily Evans rolled onto her stomach, looking at Petunia who was reading a book. Lily had never been so bored in her entire life. She closed her eyes and imagined what she would be doing if she were at Hogwarts. She imagined her charms class and potions with Professor Slughorn. She should send him an owl, she thought with a smile. The sun was falling across her lazily, soothing her boredom into a faint lethargic feeling. In her minds eye she could see herself walking through the halls and eating dinner with her friends. Then, she could see James Potter and his friends pranking first years. She frowned and opened her eyes. He didn't know why she had thought about the marauders, and especially of James Potter. This was suppose to be her vacation. "Are you just going to sit there watching us," snapped Petunia. Her sister's harsh voice shook Lily from her reverie to realize what she had opened her eyes to. Petunia's boyfriend, Vernon Dursley, had come along with them to their yearly family beach retreat and Lily had opened her eyes to their snog session. Lily felt a bit nauseated as they continued where they had left off, Petunia leaning back in her chair, book on her leg, looking up at Vernon. Vernon was hunched forward kissing her from above. They were making disgusting slurping sounds. Petunia shifted and her book fell to the ground, unnoticed. Lily stood, not looking at them and moved away.

It used to be that Petunia could at least pretend to be civil on family vacations. It was as if at the beach Petunia could not define what was normal and what was abnormal. Without those definitions, Lily was in the clear and they tended to get along as they used to, before Hogwarts. But this summer, Petunia seemed even more set in her ways. Lily suspected it was because of the Dursley bloke. He seemed to complain about everything. Her parents took it gracefully, but Lily had to wonder if anything was normal in his book. She let the door slam behind her as she looked at the living room. There was nothing but a few old magazines from a decade ago and an old black and white television with an uncomfortable couch. A small table sat between the couch and the television. The house was not designed for anything except as a temporary lay over between beach times. Lily fell onto the uncomfortable couch, closing her eyes. She let her mind wander in the darkness behind her eyes and soon found herself in the dream world of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.

When Lily opened her eyes again it was to sleepily acknowledge the face of the seventeen-year-old James Potter peering down at her with an odd smile. She had never seen him look that way at her. He did not muss his hair by running his hand through it. Lily closed her eyes again, thinking she was still dreaming. "I'm sure Lily will be happy to see some friends from Hogwarts, she's been terribly bored this weekend, what with Petunia having Vernon here and her father and I busy. Will you join us for dinner, James?" It was her mother's voice, and Lily was slowly trying to figure out why it seemed so real and close. "I'd be delighted, Mrs. Evans," replied James voice. Lily pinched her arm and found it hurt. That was that then. She sat up and looked grumpily at the raven-haired boy peering down at her. "Well, hello there, Lily," James said cheerily. "What are you doing here, Potter," hissed Lily, rubbing her eyes angrily. "I'm on vacation." "Now, Lily," her mother tutted, coming into the room with some lemonade and a bowl of water. "Don't be grumpy." Lily thanked her mother for the lemonade and then waited until she left. She leaned forward looking at James Potter's look of innocence. "What are you doing here," she repeated. "Come to ruin my summer as well?" James gave her a hurt look. "Of course not, Lily," he answered, sipping his lemonade. "My family is renting a house this summer just a bit away." "But what are you doing here," asked Lily, motioning the room around them. As if in answer, there was a bark from the corner. Lily turned to see a large black dog looking up at her, wagging its tail. It's tongue lulled out of its mouth cheerfully. "My dog ran out of the house and over here. I had to get it. I didn't realize you were staying here though, until I ran into you mum and dad. They were very nice about it all." Lily looked at James skeptically, but found the story believable. "What's his name," she asked with a smile as she patted his head. "Snuffles," James said with a smirk, looking at the dog in a sideways glance. The dog turned to him and barked, seeming to narrow his friendly eyes at the name. "He doesn't like that name much," James explained with a laugh. "Dinner is ready," called Mrs. Evan's voice from the kitchen. "James, be a dear and help me set the table while Lily goes out to get Petunia and Vernon, will you?" James smiled at Lily's look of disgust. She rose and prepared herself to end the snog-fest she was sure was still going on outside.

"Let me get that seat for you, Petunia," James said pulling out Petunia's seat. Vernon gave James a dark look as Petunia stepped forward with a polite smile. Just a few inches away from the seat, Snuffles jumped into it and barked as if thanking James. Petunia let out a scream of surprise, rushing back to Vernon. Lily tried to stifle a giggle, but Petunia gave her a dark look as if she knew what Lily was trying to hide. "Sorry," James said eyes dancing though he looked very sorry about the situation. "Snuffles, down." Snuffles growled at James before jumping down and moving to the chair next to Lily. "Sorry about that," James explained to Mr. and Mrs. Evans. Petunia took a seat next to Vernon. James sat in the seat he had offered to Petunia, next to Lily. Lily was now sitting next to Snuffles on one side and James on the other- two dogs at one table. "We usually let him eat at the table with us. He thinks he's a person," James explained. "Well, I think this is fine," Mr. Evans said with a smile. "Just no elbows on the table," he said with a chuckle, patting Snuffles on the head. "Dad," whined Petunia, looking worriedly at Vernon. Vernon had a confused expression on his face. "This is so not normal," Petunia moaned. Mr. Evans shrugged and turned to his wife, "this looks delicious." "So, how do you know Petunia's sister," asked Vernon gruffly. Lily had noticed that he rarely called her by her first name, often opting to refer to her as "Petunia's sister." She wonder if that somehow made her seem less odd in his eyes. "We go to school together," answered James with a smile. "How do you know Lily's sister?" Lily couldn't help but smile at the look of disdain on Petunia's face at her new title. James winked at Lily, as if knowing her annoyed thoughts just moments before. Lily tried to ignore the rush of blood to her cheeks, shaking her head. Vernon seemed to be surveying the two of them skeptically. "And do dogs always eat at the table at your school," Vernon asked. James looked over at Snuffles who was carefully moving his plate closer in order to eat a piece of meat. "Yes," he said finally, looking at Vernon with a smile. "Yes they do." "Oh that's not true," snapped Petunia. "It's just his dog that does that. Normal dogs don't eat at the table." "But," James said with a look of shock. "I thought Snuffles was normal. He's not?" Petunia and Vernon gave James identical dirty looks. "They do, actually." Everyone turned to Lily who had spoken. She didn't know why she was going along with the lie. Perhaps it was because it seemed to be annoying Vernon and Petunia, or perhaps it was because if boys like Sirius Black ate at tables, then dogs wouldn't be much of a change. Perhaps, whispered a small voice in the back of her mind, it's because you don't like them ganging up on Potter. It's fine if you are mean to him but if someone else is… She shook her head and smiled at the table. "At our school dogs eat at the table. Only if they want to of course." "Fascinating," said Mr. Evans leaning closer. He was always interested to hear about Lily's school and the wizarding world. Lily felt eyes on her even after everyone else had looked away and turned to see James and Snuffles looking at her, the first with dancing eyes and the expression she had first noticed on him, the latter licking his lips and wagging his tail as if in approval.

"Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Evans," James aid standing up. As if on que, Snuffles leapt from his chair and trotted behind James. "And dessert," James added motioning to the remaining lemon cake. "It was delicious." "Why don't you take some to your parents, James," offered Mrs. Evans, wrapping up the rest of the cake in aluminum foil and handing it to him. "Come back anytime," smiled Mr. Evans, shaking James' hand. Lily was slouching in her chair, in a food coma. Petunia and Vernon had spent the rest of the dinner in silence, inhaling their food and dessert before rushing away. After they had left Mr. Evans had leaned forward and begun to ask James numerous questions about his life at Hogwarts and outside of it. "Lily, why don't you walk your friend to the end of the drive way," Mrs. Evans suggested. "It's more polite that way." Lily nodded and took a moment to collect herself. Then she stood and led James out the door. "Your parents are nice," James said with a smile. "And they make delicious food." "Yeah," Lily yawned. She was too tired to imagine he had some prank up his sleeve, or to be skeptical about his intentions. "You should come over tomorrow for breakfast, we're having coffee cake," Lily said sleepily. "My mum makes the best blue berry coffee cake." James stopped walking and looked at her with a smile. "Well, it's a date then. I'll come over at eleven." Lily blinked. "What," she asked confused. "It's not a date." "But you invited me," stated James. "Oh go jump in the lake, Potter," snapped Lily. James shrugged unperturbed. "Can Sirius come too," he asked. "He's here with us." Lily rolled her eyes. "I don't even want you to come," she replied. "But if you must, then I suppose bring Black too." Snuffles licked Lily's hand. Lily shook her head, moving down the driveway. At the end, she paused as she heard a voice say, "What's the matter, Petunia?"

The driveway was the only place that had any unnatural scenery. To separate the lot they stood on and the one next door, there was a tall wooden fence. Painted on it was a mural of the beach at sunset. Lily liked it; she thought it made the house more interesting. Petunia hated it. She said it was tacky. On the other side of the fence was a grassy empty lot. Sometimes at night Lily liked to lay on a towel in the lot and look at the sky. She had not done so this summer. She had tried once but had found Vernon and Petunia busy on the other side. She had been frightened to go back again. Now she could hear the voice of Vernon on the other side of the fence. She leaned down and peered through a crack in two of the board, seeing Petunia pouting as she leaned against Vernon. James and Snuffles had paused behind her. "Oh its nothing to do with you, Vernon," Petunia answered. "It's only my sister. I just don't understand why it is so hard for her to just be normal. You would think that she could at least pretend since you're here but, no. Instead she invites her friend over and just proves how odd she really is. You know she didn't used to be so abnormal. She used to be such a sweet girl and then she started going to that horrid boarding school and now look at her. A freak of nature. Why if I told you everything I've had to put up with, you wouldn't believe it. Never in a thousand years would you believe it! I wish she would just go back to her school and leave me alone." Lily did not wait to hear what Vernon replied, nor did she look to see what expression James Potter had when looking at her. He had not moved from her side the entire time she peered through the gate, listening to Petunia's loud complaints. Lily didn't wait for anything. She simply stood and rushed back to the house and up to bed, where she lay, staring at the ceiling and wondering how her sisterhood had fallen to the freak of nature and obsessive normalcy. Then she sat up and wrote to Professor Slughorn, moving her quill half-heartedly. After a few lines she noticed the ink was blurred from two solitary teardrops. She crumpled the parchment and went to bed.

Lily rolled over and rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she heard a quick knock on the door. "Mother says its time to get up. Your friend is here for breakfast and he brought someone else." The curt voice behind the door belonged to Petunia. Lily could tell because of its coarse annoyance. Lily rolled over and looked at the clock. It was eleven. She put on a robe and moved downstairs sleepily. The image in the kitchen that greeted her was filled with Petunia's look of annoyance, Vernon's look of discomfort, Mr. Evans look of interest and Mrs. Evans smiling face. The other two faces belonged to Sirius Black and James Potter. "Your friends are multiplying," Vernon grunted. Mrs. Evans kissed Lily's forehead. She was fully dressed and seemed to be heading out. "Your father and I are going into town. Have a good day with your friends," Mrs. Evans said with a smile. Then she and Mr. Evans left the room, waving goodbye to James and Sirius. Lily yawned and moved lazily to the oven where her mother's blueberry coffeecake sat. Sirius Black was giving Vernon a lazy, surveying look, which Vernon returned with a glare. "This coffee cake is delicious," James said with a smile, pushing his glasses up his nose. The breakfast went as normal as a breakfast could go with Sirius and James present. Lily sleepily thought that perhaps now Petunia would be satisfied. But she and Vernon rushed off as they had the night before. Lily heard Vernon say, "Your sister is very odd isn't she," as he left. She glared at the doorway he had left through and felt eyes on her. Turning, she saw James look at her with a half smile.

Later they decided to play a board game. "They call it a board game because it's boring, mate," whined Sirius as Lily pulled out a game. "Well if you don't like it, you may as well go home," replied Lily curtly. She immediately regretted it. After all, without these two oddballs here, she would be the freak of nature all alone. As if knowing what she was thinking, James said, "you know, normalcy is so overrated. The intelligent like eccentricity." Sirius let out a bark like laugh and moved towards the table that Lily was setting the board on. "I'll be right back," James said with a smile moving towards the door as he reached for something in his pocket. Lily noticed that he and Sirius exchanged a mischievous look. "What are you," Lily began, but James placed his hand on the small of her back as he passed and she felt her voice catch. He left it there for a moment longer then necessary, and after the door banged closed behind him, his touch seemed to linger. He returned a few moments later and they began to play.

"You know, Lily," James said with a smile looking up at her from the board. "I haven't asked you out all summer. It's nearly August." He smiled at her innocently. Sirius Black was in the bathroom, doing who knows what. He'd been there for at least ten minutes. Their game was almost finished. "Let's keep it that way, Potter," Lily said. "Of course," James said with a sad smile. "But, you don't think you could ever like me?" Lily looked at his serious face. Just as she was about to answer with a venomous no, there was a scream from outside and Petunia and Vernon came rushing in, covered in bird droppings and feathers. "You," screeched Petunia pointing at Lily. "This is all your doing!" Lily looked at her confused. "What is my doing," she asked, seeing James eyes dance with laughter at the sight of her sister and her boyfriend. "We were just laying on the beach and suddenly all the birds started coming towards us and sitting on us and pooping on us," Petunia screeched. Lily wondered if she could go deaf from the frequency of the screaming. "I've been inside all day," Lily reminded her sister. "It's true," James agreed with a smile. "Maybe birds are just abnormally attracted to you two." Vernon made a gruff noise of disgust. "You two must be freaks of nature or something." There was a moment of loaded silence, as Petunia and Vernon looked at James as if trying very hard to piece something together, hate growing in their eyes. Lily, meanwhile, had nearly gotten whiplash from turning her head to look at James. Vernon moved forward as if to punch James, raising his fist. "You little-" he began. But Lily moved in front of James and looked at Vernon with a look she normally reserved for the Marauders. The fire in her eyes made Vernon move backward more quickly then he had moved forward, making him stumble. "We have all been inside all day. I suggest you leave us alone." Vernon and Petunia moved bitterly from the room to go shower as Sirius appeared.

"Well done mate," he said with a bark like laugh. "So it was you," hissed Lily, turning her attention to James. He looked at her in silence for a moment, searching her face. She realized that for the second time in their acquaintanceship, she had stood up for him. He seemed flattered by the change. "Your not a freak of nature, Lily," James said touching her wrist. He moved his hand away as if unsure if he had gone to far. "Besides, if I can't ask out the new Headgirl, I feel that it is within my Headboy duties to stand up for her. Nothing says stop being a prick like sudden bird attraction. And poop." "Let's go, mate," Sirius said looking between them. "I need to talk to your mum." Lily watched in silence as they left the cabin, letting the door close behind them, covering the backwards glance James threw her. She thought that she should have found the idea of James Potter as Headboy an annoyance. She should be wondering how he knew she was to be Headgirl. But she found herself smiling instead of being annoyed. Perhaps James Potter was not as bad as she had thought. Perhaps freaks of nature and oddballs needed to stick together.


	6. I've Got to See You Again

Chapter 6: I've Got to See You Again

A large dog trotted down the street, looking around every so often to make sure he was alone, then continuing on his way. It was only in these moments of paranoia that the dog appeared concerned at all. Once he recovered himself, his ears would perk up once more and he would trot happily on, almost as if he would be whistling as he walked, if he could. After some time he came to a muggle town and seemed to pause, peering up at the street signs and thinking to himself. A few passing muggles who did notice the dog looking at the street signs laughed and pointed, saying things like "Look at the little person." But the dog did not seem to notice them and after a moment, he gave himself a little shake and, tail wagging, he moved onward. When he eventually reached his destination, he trotted into an alley. The dog seemed to check the alley to make sure he was alone before changing into Sirius Black, who stood and moved towards the back door that was always slightly propped open.

As he entered, he began to whistle, moving cheerfully from the back, past the barrels of beer and vats of wine and other such drinks, up towards the front of the building. Outside the sign read "Lucille's Irish Pub." Sirius Black looked much more groomed then usual today, his hair was nicely combed and trimmed and it fell neatly over his face at times. He thought this added a sense of rebellion and mystery to his appearance. His muggle clothes included an old leather jacket he had had when he used to ride his flying motorcycle, a plain red t-shirt and jeans with two holes in them. He looked like his age and certainly did not look like the mass murderer Sirius Black. He pushed open the swinging doors to finally find himself in the front pub and took a seat at the bar. This journey had become almost a tradition. It had all started when he had gotten bored, as most of his traditions began. Harry had left for his fifth year of Hogwarts and Sirius was left with Kreecher and some passing Order of the Pheonix members. Overall, it was quite dreary and depressing. He had been staring out the window when he heard a familiar singing. At first, he could not decide why it was familiar. Was it the upbeat tempo, the soft melodious tones, or perhaps the way that it sounded soft and distant and yet it also sounded as if it were right by his ear. The singing had pulled him from his self-pity party and so he looked down interestedly to see who it was. When he saw her it all came rushing back.

They had met when he was sixteen, over his winter break. He had been avoiding Regulus, who was sent to retrieve him from the muggle town. But Sirius did not wish to leave. He liked the muggle town and the people. They were friendly and kind, always willing to stop and chat. They never seemed to judge him, as if they had more important things to do. Often, he liked to walk through the park or sit on a bench, lazily looking up at the stormy sky above him. On this particular day, he had rushed into the park and hidden behind a tree until Regulus passed. He had thought he was well hidden until someone laughed above him. He looked up and jumped back in surprise. It was a girl around his age, sitting in the snow-covered tree, scarf hanging down to her knees. "Hello there," she said cheerfully. Sirius could see her striped socks move as she swung her legs, smiling down at him. "What are you doing," he asked. He couldn't help but feel torn between laughter and perplexed at the oddity that was occurring. "I'm sitting in a tree. It's a much better hiding spot then the trunk, you know." He had looked at her. Her face was covered partly in shadow but he could see the ends of her curly chestnut hair gracing her shoulders. "I don't need a hiding spot," Sirius had told her, letting out a bark-like laugh at the girl air of eccentricity. "You don't," she asked curiously, leaning down so the light fell onto her face completely. She had a button nose that crinkled as she looked skeptically at him. Her large grey eyes seemed to dance merrily as she looked at him, her mouth twitching into a smile. "Why would I," Sirius asked, trying his best to look up at her in a dangerous manner. The girls at Hogwarts loved this look he knew. He would raise one eyebrow casually while tilting his head and looking at them, straight in the eyes. "Well," the girl continued as if he hadn't changed his facial expression at all. "I only thought you were hiding from your enraged lover." Sirius' mouth dropped agape. "My lover," he asked. "Whatever gave you that idea?" "Well, your hiding for one and you rushed over here quite quickly, as if being chased. Then I saw that only boy pause and look for you and you were muttering to yourself. I think it was," she paused seeming to search for something. Then she said, in a deep impersonation of Sirius that made him want to burst into laughter, "Regulus, stop following. Go home. It's over."

Sirius looked at her curiously. "That's my brother," he said finally. Her face formed one of surprise, something that Sirius found adorably cute as her mouth formed an O shape, eyebrows raising. "That's not very kosher is it. Your brother. Well, I suppose to each his own, still though, that is a bit disturbing." Sirius stared up at the strange girl as she shifted, pulling herself straight and hiding herself in the darkness of the snow-covered leaves. He could hear leaves rustling. "Well your brother-lover is back," her voice said and Sirius turned to see Regulus entering the park, looking around curiously. He had not spotted Sirius yet but that meant he only had moments to hide. A hand shot down above him, unnoticed until it pulled Sirius' hair. "What," he snapped, looking at the girl. She waved her hand, as if inviting him to take it. So he reached up and grabbed it, climbing the tree as she helped by pulling him upward. Then, he was in the tree and out of sight. "So how did you and your brother get involved," the girl asked, wiggling her eyebrows. Sirius could see her face dimly in the scattered bit of light through the tree leaves. He realized he was still holding her hand and wondered if he should release it, but she seemed not to notice and so he let his hand remain. Her hand was long and spidery, covered in a neon pink glove that somehow still managed to seem elegant on her hand. "He's not my lover," Sirius told her in a whisper as he lifted his feet so that Regulus would not see them below. "He's just my brother." "Well, that is disappointing," the girl said tossing her wild chestnut curls over her shoulder with her free hand. "But I suppose there can't always be juicy gossip." Sirius heard footsteps and looked below. It was Regulus moving around beneath the tree, pausing to look around the park. The girl seemed about to open her mouth to speak to him and Sirius leaned forward and covered her mouth, giving her a warning look. Her eyes moved to his hand over her mouth, then to his hand still holding hers, and finally to his face, as if understanding something he never would.

After a few minutes of silence, Regulus left and Sirius released her mouth. "Did you lick me," he asked, wiping his hand on his coat. She smiled as if nothing in the world could bother her and replied "I hoped it would make you move your hand, but it didn't work, did it?" Sirius shook his head, amused. He felt the smile on his face stretching wider. "Now I understand," the girl said. She said it with such authority that Sirius felt a need to listen to whatever she were about to say. It was a rare feeling to have, especially with a girl he had just met. "Your madly in love with me." The end of the sentence was as shocking as the first moments of their meeting and Sirius found himself unable to speak. He could not confirm it because the accusation was insane, but he felt an odd inability to deny it as well. He had the statement, "Your batty mad. I just met you," on the tip of his tongue, but his mouth refused to open to say it. "It's quite alright, you know. I imagine I seem quite mysterious and quirky sitting in a tree. You would be the first to fall madly in love with me so quickly though," she continued. Sirius was more and more aware of the pressure of their hands clasped together and he wondered why he still could not bring himself to release her hand, as if her hand was what was keeping him stable in the tree. "Anyway," the girl said with a smile, suddenly releasing his hand and jumping down to the snow, landing gracefully before looking back up at him. His hand felt abnormally cold all of a sudden. "If your going to be madly in love with me, you should know my name is Lucille. Sometimes Lucy, but never ever Cilley. I'm sure, since your so madly in love with me I'll be seeing you and your brother around. Toodles." Then before he could stop her, she was trotting away, singing softly to herself, though it seemed to be distant and close to his ear at the same time. Sirius felt that the tree was suddenly very empty and lonely and so he jumped down as well. The park seemed bleak and cold. He wondered how this girl seemed to have inflated so greatly to fill the park and why, now that she was gone, it seemed empty and depressing. He shrugged, moving back towards the town. It was something he couldn't be bothered with, he told himself. Still, the feeling lingered on.

They had seen each other many times that winter, building snowmen and sitting in the tree talking. Often then ended up holding hands, though Sirius could not tell if it had the same implications he had thought it had. In all honesty, she was the closest a girl had ever come to being his girlfriend, though they never kissed. It was a strange occurrence for him. Usually he had all the physical and none of the other things, but here it was the opposite. He felt a strong pull to see her whenever he could, sometimes surprising her at her house by throwing pebbles at the window. He was never disappointed when she stood on his street, seemingly confused at the address skip where he said his address was. He liked her oddity and how she seemed to simply accept it instead of forcing him to take lies to cover up the magic reasons. He had never felt so intrigued by a girl before. Just before Christmas, as they sat on the freezing swings she turned to him thoughtfully. She was holding his hand as she often did, as if it were a natural thing to do and nothing to be noted, but Sirius could not help but note it these days, though he didn't know why. "I suppose we should exchange Christmas gifts," she said thoughtfully. Sirius looked at her curiously. 'Were we getting Christmas gifts for each other," he asked. Lucille frowned thoughtfully. "It's very last minute you know, I'll have to pull something together." She dug in her jean pockets and then her coat pockets. Then, bringing out her fist, she opened it to reveal a paper clip, some lint, and a string. She dropped all of this into his hand before snapping her fingers and reaching up to her hair, pulling out a barrette and adding that to the pile. "Happy Christmas. I've given you everything I own at this exact moment. Don't you feel special?" Sirius smiled and admitted to himself that he did, though if the present had been from anyone else it would seem a sorry attempt. He put the pile in an empty pocket and then felt around his own pockets. When he opened his fingers he held out a stone and a knut. He dropped the two things into her hand and Lucille leaned close to look at the knut. She released his hand and held it up. "This is so odd," she said inspecting it. "What is it?" "Money from another country. It's real old," Sirius said. He felt a slight twinge of guilt, but reasoned with himself that both were true. He'd had that knut in his pocket since school had begun and it was from a different country, the wizarding country. "Wow," Lucille beamed. And then, without any warning, she moved her swing sideways to be right next to Sirius'. She kissed his cheek softly, sending a thrill of warmth across his face. He looked at her as she began inspecting the knut again. She sat down completely and let the swing fly sideways away like a pendulum. But when it returned to his swing, Sirius grabbed the chain and held it in place with one hand as he used his other to reach over to her face and turn her button nose to face him. Then he had kissed her. First softly on the lips, then after a moment when she began to kiss back, more deeply. There they remain in the park for a good time, simply kissing as they had held hands, as if it were natural and perfect and nothing odd. If someone had walked by, they would have thought it was only two normal teens. But Sirius knew one was anything but normal, and the other was a wizard.

When he had finished the kiss, Lucille looked at him with a smile, as if they had simply been having a pleasant conversation. She seemed unfazed though her eyes danced more then usual. Sirius kissed her button nose, feeling that the kiss had ended too abruptly, but unwilling to lose himself in the kiss again. At some point, he had moved from his swing to stand over her, kissing her from this position and he sat down once more, their hands meeting as if magnetic. "Happy Christmas," she said softly, though it sounded, as her singing had, as if it were said close to his ear. He replied, "Happy Christmas." It would have been the best winter break ever, if only it had kept on that track. But just after Christmas, he had snapped at home. There was nothing to do about it except to leave. So he had run away to James Potter's house, leaving Lucille and the muggle town behind. He had wanted to stop by her house, to explain he could not meet her and why. But he did not have time. He flooed to James Potters house and found that life returned to normal. Though, in moments of silence and boredom he found himself back in the tree of the Muggle Park, holding hands as if it were natural.

All of this had come flooding back when he saw her walking by and he had immediately, without any thought, changed into a dog and followed to her to town. She had led him straight to this Irish Pub, Lucille's. And so, ever since then he had come every day in hopes of seeing her. In hopes of explaining and catching her eye. He didn't know why, but he hoped that he could just explain the situation. He felt that everything would make sense if only he could see her once more. So far, it had been a failure. After two weeks, Lucille had not returned to the pub. Sirius was beginning to lose hope. Now, he looked around the almost empty pub. No wild curly chestnut hair caught his eye and he felt the whistle he had been whistling die on his lips. He felt disappointed and empty, like he had in the tree all those years ago. "Let me guess, a pint of ale, correct?" Sirius turned to see grey eyes dancing before him. "Here to confess that you are madly in love with me," Lucille asked, using her apron to dry a glass and filling it. Sirius felt his heart quicken and he felt suddenly embarrassed. "Don't worry," she continued, handing him the glass. "I already know you are." She laughed. "Join me for a drink," he asked, pushing the stray hair from his face and letting it fall back into it again. Lucille looked around the pub then took another glass, dried it, and filled it before coming around the bar and sitting next to him. "Just one," she told him. She removed a barrette from her air and gently used it to pin his lose hair away from his face. "But I can't even see you through all that silly hair," she explained as she moved her hand away. Sirius knew he now looked ridiculous, but he felt no embarrassment.

They caught up for an hour or so, taking sips from the ale only when they paused in their conversation, which was rare. At some point in the conversation, their hands had knocked and they had begun holding hands as they used to, as if it were as natural and expected as breathing. Her long fingers felt warm in the cold pub and Sirius couldn't help but feel the strange excitement he had always felt. "Lucille," he said finally as he took his last sip of the glass. "I'm sorry I left so suddenly. I meant to explain but I had to leave. I was disowned and all that." He felt that the excuse was lame as he said it, no better then saying he had to wash his hair. Lucille smiled though she seemed surprised at the mention. "I know," she told him. Sirius frowned. "What do you mean you know," he asked. She finished her glass before turning to look at him seriously. "Your brother lover ran into me in the park a few days after Christmas and explained it all. I didn't even know who he was at first, but then he explained that he wasn't your lover. That you had been disowned and would probably not be coming back. I'll admit I was sad, but at least I got to meet your lover brother." Sirius blinked confused. "Regulus told you?" Lucille smiled ruffling Sirius' hair. "Course he did. What other brother-lover would I be referring to? How many did you have," she asked. She stood, releasing his hand as she moved away around the bar. 'Anything else, mister," she asked. She seemed to remember something and dug into her pocket and pulled out the knut. "I bet you don't still have the string, lint, and paperclip." Sirius beamed at the knut and held up his hand. The string was tied around it. Lucille's face broke into a beam and she returned the knut to her pocket. Then, without warning, she leaned over the bar and kissed him softly on the lips. For a moment he didn't respond, and then he reached his hand up to push some of her wild hair away from her face and he pulled himself closer to her, though the bar between them was a hindrance.

For a long time they stood like this, kissing as they had on the swings, feeling the tingling shock that rushed through them. When they stopped, Lucille smiled and said, "If I were you, this would be when I would make my exit. Dramatically." Sirius stood, dropping a few dollars on the counter as he did so. "Now, I'll be back," Sirius, said leaning close to her face so he could smell the shampoo she used. "I'd expect nothing else," Lucille replied with a laugh. Sirius beamed and walked towards the back, whistling cheerfully. Lucille did not try to stop him or ask him why he was using the back exit. She simply winked at him playfully as he paused by the swinging doors. He felt a tinge of something in his chest and then moved out into the alley. Then a big black dog came trotting out of the alley and began its way back to the dreary and quiet residence of the Order of the Pheonix. The only difference that people would notice about this trip is that the dog seemed to wag his tail much more then before, and that in his fur was a purple barrette, on the fur just above his eye, as if holding fur from hindering his sight.


	7. Come Away With Me SSLE

Chapter 7: Come Away With Me

He watched her push her long scarlet hair from her eyes. How her hand paused at her temple. Only for a brief moment before it continued onward to her ear, pushing most of the hair into place. Some of it was too short and it fell back where it had been moments before. He liked to pretend it was his hand that reached out next to sweep the forgotten hairs away. That it was his hand that she rested her cheek against shyly. He imagined it was his dark eyes that she turned her emerald green ones to connect and then mutter something quietly. She imagined that she leaned closer so he could hear what she muttered, as she often whispered in class, letting her long hair fall over her shoulder and grace the table, barely touching it. He imagined she would lean just next to his ear and say "Thanks Sev." She would say it with a small smile, of course. A slight one, that only moved the corners of her mouth but made her eyes leap with excitement and joy. He would have answered "No problem Lily." It had taken much debate on this answer. For a while he tried the word Lils on his lips. The way it sounded. He hadn't liked it at all. It had made his tongue dance too much, not like her real name. Lily seemed to be more down to earth and sweet. It reminded him of the first flowers of spring. In general, he hated flowers, finding them silly. But the first flowers he enjoyed. They reminded him of her. And vice versa. The smell was extra sweet, as if too good to be true. And they were extra beautiful. Extra everything that the later flowers always seemed to lack.

Once, he recalled, he had given her one of the first flowers of spring. It had been at the playground when they were nine or ten. He had looked at her with his serious young face; a face jaded from the arguing that went on around him night after night. But looking at her playing on the swings as he approached, he felt his heart lighten, as if the arguing that had occurred just the night before had never happened at all. As if it were a bad dream. It always seemed that way around her. He remembered how she had turned at her name, which he had said softly and shyly, though it came off very solemnly. She had approached him, leaping from the swing to land elegantly on her feet in front of him. She was beaming at him and he felt his nervousness begin to recede, leaving only the soft gnawing feeling on the inside of his stomach. As if something he ate were trying to climb out. He had wanted to speak to her then, to say something light hearted and sarcastic as he always did in greeting. He thought about opening his mouth, but he felt his stomach moved and thought better. Silently, he held the flower out to her. She smelled it, still smiling though her eyes were confused. "Wow Severus. What a pretty flower and it smells lovely." Her friend behind her on the swing had giggled at his tense stance. He shot her a glare, but he had wanted to tell Lily, there in front of her giggling friend on the swing, that Lily was lovely and that this flower was for her. But he hadn't. Instead he had nodded, silently. Lily had searched his face confused but his tense face had given her no hints or clues. He had meant for it to soften, but it only tensed more determinedly. "Would you like to swing," she had asked as her friends giggles continued. "No." That's all he managed to answer before turning and rushing away, dropping the flower to the floor as he went. He found a trashcan hidden behind a tree and retched out his guts. The more he heaved, the more he was struck by what he could not say and the look on her face. And her giggling friend. He could hear the giggle so loudly it made his head hurt and he threw up again. "Oh Sev. Are you alright?" He looked up, wiping his mouth to see Lily, sympathetically tilting her head. She held the flower in her hand. It seemed silly and limp. Too dead and ugly in her hands. "You dropped this," she had said, holding it out. He had shaken his head and managed to mutter, "Keep it." before throwing up again and going home.

Severeus Snape moved his own dark black hair from his face as he looked up from his dinner. He had been staring at it to try and take his mind away from the Redhead across the hall. It had clearly failed. He wondered what would have happened if, at nine, he had looked into those green reveries and told her that the flower was the first flower of spring. That he had picked it special for her from his mother's garden, something his mother hated. He had been yelled at for an hour by his father, then by his mother, and that had lead to a three hour argument between them. He wondered if he had only handed it to her, ignoring her giggling friend on the swing, that maybe then he would be able to push the scarlet hair from her cheek and put it behind her ear. He imagined that if only he had not retched into that trashcan and had only said those nice things he had practiced in the mirror then it would all be different. He sighed turning to look down the Slytherin table, hoping for a distraction. His eyes were pulled, as if by a magnet, to a redheaded sixth year at the end of the table. He remembered how he had walked casually and uninterestedly into his third year potions class. He knew he would be the best student in the class. He had smiled at his nickname. When he pushed open the door, he saw her chopping ingredients already, talking light heartedly with Professor Slughorn. She smiled at him and motioned him over. They were the first students to arrive. "Well, aren't you just the biggest nerd I've ever seen," Lily had laughed. His cheeks had been rosy from the cold dungeon air. It had been a cold day after a rainstorm and the cold leaked into the dungeon, refusing to leave. He remembered her sneezing after the comment. Looking at him sheepishly, as if knowing that his look was one of superiority. "I told you to bring a jacket," he reminded her. He had told her, as they passed each other in the hall and exchanged class schedules. He had said it briefly and impersonally as they rushed past. If they had not always seemed to communicate like that, she never would have known it was addressed to her.

She had looked at him sheepishly, with a half smile as she shrugged. "But then I wouldn't be able to show off, Sevvy." She had laughed at his look of annoyance at the name. Then she had stood straight, closing her eyes and adjusting her shoulders into a stance of poise. She muttered "Accio coat," and waited. He had watched her with her eyes close, wand still poised in the air, nose slightly crinkled in concentration. She always crinkled her nose in concentration. Sometimes she did it in class when she had lost her train of thought and was trying to regain it, or when she was thinking of an answer that was on the tip of her tongue. He had always thought it was the cutest thing he had ever seen someone do with the cutest nose he had ever seen. He had stood there, watching her as she kept her long lashed lids closed and then the door banged open and Remus Lupin and Sirius Black entered, laughing so loudly that Lily opened an eye. Severus had been pleased with her look of displease at Black's laughter. "I see no coat," Severus had pointed out, glaring at the two marauders as Lily waved at Remus. "Yes, well," she had begun with a smile. But whatever she was about to say was ended by James Potter entering the room and saying loudly "Is there a Lily Evans here? A Miss Evans, perhaps? Your coat attacked me in the hall! I may be emotionally and physically scarred." Lily had rolled her eyes, but Severus had seen her mouth twitch with laughter as James handed her the coat, bowing before he walked away. She put on her coat giving him an I-told-you-so look and he shrugged, picking up his ingredients and supplies as her friend entered, waving at her and rushing over. He had wondered what she had been about to say before Potter's gigantic head blocked the train of thought. He imagined, for the rest of the day at least, that she was going to say "Yes, well, I'll just have to wear yours then, won't I?" Or perhaps she had been about to say "Yes, well, good thing I'm so fond of you. Nothing wrong with cuddling to stay warm." He imagined that then she would have turned her emerald eyes to his black beetle ones. There would have been silence that spoke so loudly neither would be able to ignore.

One thing Severus was sure of, Lily Evans would not have given him the look that the sixth year Slytherin redhead was giving him now. One filled with contempt and annoyance. He glared back at her, almost to remind her that he was a year older and deserved respect, before turning back to his food. He was trying very hard to concentrate on the potatoes before him as he used his fork to mash them. They reminded him of clouds. He imagined what the cloud would look like from below. He could see himself and Lily, lying on the grass as they used to just before Hogwarts, discussing the shapes. Arguing about what they really were. She always thought they looked like animals, he always thought they looked like faces. They would sit on the grass and point at the sky and argue and laugh. Severus remembered how after they pointed, their arms would fall back lazily to the ground with a dramatic thump. As if all their energy had been used to raise the arm and now that the task was complete there was no more energy to be spared. A few times their arms had thumped down onto one another. She would laugh and move it away, apologizing or making a joke, but he would silently pray she would not move it. He felt, as her hand fell onto his or as his arm fell onto hers, a strange tingling sensation that covered the briefing feeling of pain from the contact. He would imagine that this was like they were holding hands. Holding hands and looking at clouds and laughing and joking. Just like normal couples did. Not that they were a couple, he would remind himself. They certainly weren't a couple. But for a brief moment, one that lasted less then a second, he could imagine that they were. He imagined, as their arms lay across one another, just before she moved hers that they were simply on an outing together. A brief stop before dinner. But then she would move her arm and the illusion would be destroyed. Sometimes, he would move his. He never wanted to, but he felt as if he was expected to. He worried that to keep his arm on hers would somehow reveal his inner thoughts to her. She would suddenly sit up, horrified at the idea that he was imagining them as a couple on a date. Severus shook his hair and took a bite of his potatoes, destroying the clouds. All this brought on by potatoes that looked like clouds. It was a silly comparison, he told himself.

His raven hair had fallen in front of his eyes again and he used the veil to look up sneakily across the room, not lifting his head completely. He could see her smiling at a friend who sat across the table, using her fork to make a point. He could see a few boys in the hall looking at her, admiring her from afar. He felt a grudging bitterness that he was to be placed into a category with the likes of them. These boys who only liked her because of her smile and looks. They knew nothing about her personality. How she had cried when her hamster died, or how she had punched a bully in the nose who pulled her pigtails one time to many. They knew nothing about how she and her sister Petunia would race their bicycles around the block, starting at their house and ending at the ice cream store. They had no idea that Petunia barely even looked at Lily any more. They did not know how Lily hated that. He did. He pushed his hair back annoyed as he glared at a Ravenclaw who was gazing at Lily distractedly. Severus stuck his hand in his pocket and grasped his wand. Without removing it from his pocket, he muttered a spell and the Ravenclaw's soup spilled over onto his lap. He leapt up and tried to get the hot soup off of him. Some people giggled. Lily looked up concerned. Severus felt guilty almost immediately. Then, as if knowing his guilt she looked at him. He reminded himself that she didn't know anything about his guilt in this prank or that he thought about her so often that it made his head hurt sometimes. She proved this true when she smiled at him, making her eyes dance. He nodded back, giving her a half smile before looking away.

All he wanted to do was to send her an owl that would tell her to meet him by the lake. Then he would see her, under the stars and tell her that he loved her and had always loved her. That ever since they were nine he had been infatuated with her mind, body, and soul. It had not always been love. It had been wordless for a long time. But now he knew and he felt it ripping the seams that held him in place. Then he would push that strand of scarlet hair away from her emerald eyes and push it behind her ear. She would tilt her head so her cheek rested on his hand. Then he would tell her to run away with him. To graduate and then move to another country were they could start all over again. Someplace that would not remember him heaving, or being humiliated, or unable to speak. Someplace that would only see them as they were, away, together. He imagined they could stay in a house and listen to the pitter patter of rain falling above them. They would look at each other in the cheesiest of ways and he would whisper her name and in her name would hold everything he meant to say. She would understand when he handed her the first spring flower after that.

Her laughter brought him back to reality and looked up. The laugh seemed to echo through the hall, bouncing off the wall and infecting everyone it touched. It popped like bubbles. Severus looked at Lily Evans who had laughed and felt his heart freeze, mid-beat. For a moment, he was sure he had died on the spot. No one could survive his or her heart refusing to beat. The sight that had frozen his heart and killed him mid-dinner was the sight of Lily Evans, laughing as she leaned her head sideways, looking at James Potter. Their bodies leaned inward towards each other, their eyes locked in a moment frozen in Severus' mind. Severus couldn't see Lily's eyes, but he could see the fondness in Potter's, the happy glow of joy. Severus knew Lily's cheeks and face showed the same glow. Then, just as Severus felt as if his heart would begin to beat again, it froze once more. As if in slow motion, Lily tossed her long hair over her shoulder, pulling it into a ponytail. For a moment they seemed to continue talking but then James Potter reached out slowly, almost self consciously, and gently pushed the stubborn scarlet strand of hair that had missed the ponytail behind her ear. He head tilted slightly, touching her cheek to his hand and for a moment they paused, looking at one another. Then he removed his hand, pushing up his glasses as a slight blush appeared.

Severus stood, feeling the same gnawing feeling in his stomach, as if something he ate were about to return. He was suddenly the same Severus Snape he was eight years ago, when at nine he could only hold out a flower, unable to speak. He moved swiftly from the room, noticing in the back of his mind the look of worry that crossed Lily's face. It still had a tint of blush. The doors had just closed behind him when he lurched forward and heaved. Standing, he wiped his mouth and cleaned the mess with his wand, feeling a cold breeze blow through the castle. He moved silently down the hall and towards the dungeon, feeling the gnawing feeling slowly begin to return as he saw in his mind Potter pushing back the scarlet hair. Potter, touching the tilted cheek. And Severus felt as if he were sitting on the grass, looking up at the clouds with no one around him and the only faces in the clouds were Lily and James, looking into one another's eyes.


End file.
